


Beautiful Boy

by loreenswriting



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Consensual Underage Sex, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Gen, Indian James Potter, Love Triangles, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Multi, Original Character(s), Protective Minerva McGonagall, Teen Pregnancy, Teenage Drama, Underage Drinking, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wizarding Wars (Harry Potter), Wizarding World (Harry Potter), Young Love, can neither confirm nor deny if this ends in canon, mainly focuses on the pregnancy, the war is just a subplot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29150346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loreenswriting/pseuds/loreenswriting
Summary: OPHELIA POTTER IS NOT A WHORE.She’s a very sexually responsible person. It just so happened that the guy she slept with over the summer just coincidentally forgot to wear a condom and now she’s carrying his bastard child.Of course, she’s going to keep the baby.The concept of becoming a mother has been on her bucket list since she was seven and she finally convinced her mother to buy her one of those Muggle baby dolls that eventually gave her nightmares. But the concept of having a baby at seventeen, in the middle of a war, during her seventh year at Hogwarts, was definitely not a part of her plans.But of course, so was falling in love with her brother’s best friend.
Relationships: Fleamont Potter/Euphemia Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Beautiful Boy

SOMEWHERE in the city of London, three young women walk around a crowded street looking for a strange place called a “pharmacy.”

You see, the three young women, all beautiful a face and somewhat pure in heart, were not ordinary people. No, they were of the same race that the Americans held a bloody trial and had mass executions for them all over their bloody country. No, they were not ordinary. They were witches.

Now you would think that they would cower in the darkness and try to avoid the gaze of Muggles (non-magic people) everywhere. But just like those who were executed, they looked just like you and me. You never know when you can spot a witch or a wizard. They could be your neighbor who always walked their dog at night, the office clerk at your office, or even your romantic partner.

The three witches before us could not be more different, but they were oh so alike. Having met when they were eleven, they could hardly believe that while they came from different backgrounds, they would get along so well.

“Where did your friend say this store was again?” The girl in the middle, wearing what she thought was conspicuous clothing (a navy green jacket, white t-shirt, and black jeans) asked the girl to her right.

“It’s called a pharmacy and she said it’s just a little further down here,” the girl pointed to her left. “and when we pass by the chippy, we turn right.”

“You think she knows where this fucking place is?” The girl wearing bunny ears asked.

“Of course she does. This is where she gets all of her tests when she thinks she’s pregnant.”

The girl in the green jacket shushed her sharply. “Don’t say the ‘p’ word. You might jinx it.”

The girl scoffed. “What? Like you can jinx getting pregnant.”

The names of these girls were as follows: the girl in the middle with the conspicuous clothing was Ophelia Potter, a strikingly beautiful girl with large brown eyes and probably the smallest hands in the universe. She was a pureblood, meaning she came from one of the oldest wizarding families in England. Yes, even in the wizarding world, there is a social hierarchy. But Ophelia, along with her family, were considered blood traitors. You see, unlike those purebloods who wanted to get Muggle hunting legalized again, Ophelia and her family quite liked Muggles. Even if they were a little weird.

The girl to her right was named Claudia Rodriguez. A halfblood, meaning her mother was a pureblood witch that was disowned by her horrible family and her biological father was a Muggle-born, meaning a wizard/witch that was born to Muggle parents and no other history of having magic in their blood. The last time Claudia saw her father was at her mother’s wedding to a lovely woman named Susan. And anyone who dared try to insult her parents is met with a swift punch to their eye.

The girl to Ophelia’s left was named Heather Larkin. Like Ophelia, she was a pureblood and was also labeled as a blood traitor. Heather quite liked Muggles, so much that she immersed herself in their culture and weird traditions. She didn’t exactly know what shotgunning a beer meant but she quite liked the idea and has been wanting to do it since she heard about it.

(She heard about it two weeks ago.)

As they finally passed by the chip shop, the strong smell of vinegar burning through her nostrils, Ophelia looked around for the shop that might as well have the answer to all her problems. They turned right and walked a little bit more until finally, a shop shining brightly by its white fluorescent lighting finally appeared in their view. It was quite small and looked more like a hospital than it did a pharmacy. But what did Ophelia know? She didn’t even know about pharmacies until last week.

They walked further until they were right at the entrance. Ophelia looked at Heather and Claudia, both nodding and prompting her to open the door. As she did, a cool breeze went through her and a small bell rang, signaling their arrival. A woman wearing a blue coat looked up from her book and quickly looked back down.

“Lovely customer service.” Heather murmured, to which she received a jab in her ribs from Ophelia.

The girls walked through the linoleum aisles, a song by the Beatles playing on the radio. They looked through the various shelves, anything that said ‘pregnancy’ and ‘test’, they piled into the blue basket. When Ophelia realized she was holding a self-administered STD test, she turned to Claudia with annoyance. “What does the thing look like again?”

“It’s a little white plastic thing that you have to pee on.”

“Well, which one of these little white plastic things is the thing we’re looking for?” Heather held up the basket that was filled with little white plastic things.

Claudia looked through the basket furiously until she found a pink box that was labelled “At-Home Pregnancy Test: Know Your Results In Just 3 Minutes!”

“This one,” Claudia held it to Ophelia. “this is it.”

Ophelia eyed the test with apprehension. Claudia was right, this was it. Who knew a drunken night in Cornwall would lead to this? Ophelia Euphemia Potter was taking a fucking pregnancy test. “Do I really have to take it? Maybe I can just ignore it until there’s a bump, you know what the Muggles say, ignorance is bliss and—“

“Ophelia Euphemia Potter, I did not apparate us from fucking Cornwall to fucking bloody London, where Death Eaters are walking around just for you to back out at the last minute!”

“Quiet over there!” The woman at the cashier shouted.

Claudia let out a deep breath and looked at Ophelia straight in the eye. “You wanted an answer, well here it is. Here’s your answer.”

Ophelia looked down on the test, the sheer pinkness of it made Ophelia feel as if it was mocking her, daring her to take it to see if her suspicions were true. And even if they were true, Ophelia would never look her parents or her brother in the eye ever again. Damn Anthony della Rovere and his charm! What would her parents say? What would James say? James will probably circle all of Cornwall just to find Anthony and bring his stupid friends with him. The Marauders…. FUCK! She could already see the smirk on Sirius Black’s stupid face already growing, “ _Oh, how the tables have turned, little Potter._ ”

Ophelia grimaced at the conversation awaiting her.

“Ophelia!” Heather whisper-shouted, shaking her away from her daze. “Claudia’s right, you have to take it.”

Ophelia eyed the test one more time and snatched it from Claudia’s hand, walking to the cash register to pay for it. Or rather, let Claudia pay for it. Muggle currency still confused her. The woman wearing the blue uniform put her book down and looked at the item on the counter, she eyed the three young women before her and let out a noise that Ophelia didn’t know whether it meant she was annoyed at them or judging them. Probably a mix of both.

After Claudia paid and it was wrapped in a plastic back, the woman pointed to a door next to the vending machines. “Bathroom’s right there, remember to flush.”

Ophelia muttered a quick thanks and with her hands holding on tightly to the small bag of plastic, walked to the bathroom. She turned to Claudia and Heather and gave them an apprehensive smile. They smiled back and Ophelia finally walked through the door. The bathroom was dingy and smelled faintly of chlorine but it was clean enough. Ophelia placed the plastic bag on the clean part of the sink and brought out the box. “Alright, how the fuck do I do this?”

Ophelia skimmed through the instructions.

**HOW TO USE A PREGNANCY TEST**

**STEP ONE** : REMOVE THE PLASTIC CAP FROM THE TEST TO EXPOSE THE ABSORBENT WINDOW

**STEP TWO** : PLACE THE ABSORBENT WINDOW DIRECTLY AGAINST THE URINE STREAM

**STEP THREE** : AFTER URINATING, PLACE THE TEST AGAINST A FLAT SURFACE HORIZONTALLY

**STEP FOUR** : WAIT THREE MINUTES FOR ANTICIPATED RESULTS

_IF THERE ARE TWO LINES, THE TEST IS POSITIVE. IF THERE IS ONLY ONE LINE, THE TEST IS NEGATIVE._

**WARNING: DO NOT INSERT THE TEST INTO YOUR VAGINA**

“Bit blunt, but seems easy enough.” Ophelia shrugged. As Ophelia proceeded to pee on the test, a knock was heard from the door.

“How are you doing there, Phee?”

“I’m peeing! Which is sort of relaxing.” Ophelia called out.

“We’re right here if you need anything!” Ophelia nodded and as she finished and placed the test down, the waiting game began.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

YOU COULD NOT go to St. Ives and not know who Anthony della Rovere is.

Anthony, whose real name was Antonio Giuseppe Cosimo della Rovere, was a Muggle teenager who lived with his aunt and uncle in their beach house turned seaside café on Porthmeor Beach. His English mother had fallen for his Italian father when she spent a year studying abroad in Rome, and nine months after meeting, Anthony had been born in the home of his paternal grandmother.

His parents died when he was seven. His father had suffered a heat stroke that eventually led to vital organ failure and had ultimately ended in his death. His mother, the picture of health, died in her sleep just seven months after him. The doctors said that her heart gave out. Anthony liked to think it was just his dad calling her back to his side, where she belonged.

Anthony's grandparents didn't have the strength to take care of him, not unlike the strength they had when they raised their own large brood. Instead, they thought it best to send him to England and have him live with his poor mother's sister on the foot of England. Anthony, who was every bit his father’s son, kicked and screamed all the way to Heathrow but eventually calmed down when he arrived at the beach.

Anthony only loved three things: wine (much to his poor aunt’s chagrin), sculptures made in the likeness of Roman gods, and the sea. Italian beaches were hardly ever empty, always filled with foreign tourists that kept asking questions that no one really wanted to answer. But the sea always managed to calm him, rid him of his troubles and thoughts, and when the sea engulfed him with her powerful waves, he gladly submitted.

When he arrived at Porthmeor Beach, he spent almost everyday learning how to surf, after seeing some teenagers do it with large boards covered with bright colors. His uncle, feeling more pity for the boy instead of his fallen sister-in-law, paid for all the lessons he needed to take. The only thing that made the loss of his parents bearable was the feel of the waves beneath his feet.

Anthony della Rovere grew up to be a handsome boy, quite the looker for anyone who looked his way. Bronze skin darkened by days spent under the sun, wild tousled hair that would’ve remained untouched had his aunt not been insistent that he needed a haircut twice a year, and dark brown eyes that seemed to turn blue in the daylight. It was not hard for girls to flock all over him, but Anthony did not have time for foolish summer romances.

Except for the summer of 1975.

When Ophelia Potter and her family walked through the doors of his aunt’s seaside cafe, Anthony was more or less instantly taken with her. How could he not be? Ophelia was strikingly beautiful, with the most charming smile and large expressive eyes that seemed to turn gold in the sunlight. Despite the efforts of the two boys seated next to her, one of them being her brother and the other one he was not so sure about, he shot her every smile and kept stealing glances, and he would struggle every time he would see her smile back.

When Ophelia continued to visit Porthmeor, Anthony thought it to be the time to get to know her. And after some weeks teaching her how to surf, Anthony finally made his move and kissed her. However, it seems as if his efforts were futile, for after that very kiss and the next three days after that, Ophelia did not return to Porthmeor.

Anthony went to the hotel where he knew she and her family were staying and found out shortly after arriving that the Potter family checked out and left St. Ives the day before. Anthony returned to Porthmeor with a broken heart, but like he did when he was a boy, he allowed himself to be engulfed by the sea to be free of the pain.

However, you can imagine the surprise on Anthony’s face when just two years later, Ophelia Potter walked through the door again. And with the sea so calm and the blue sky so clear, Anthony could see that a storm was coming. And he gladly welcomed it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

OPHELIA was pacing. Which was not very good because if she was pacing, she was cursing. And apparently, cursing wasn’t very good for the clump of cells she suspected was inside her body.

“Cursing isn’t going to help you, Phee.” Claudia spoke through the door.

“I know.” Ophelia replied hurriedly.

“Are you pacing?”

Ophelia stopped and ran a hand through her hair. They were right, pacing and cursing wasn’t going to help her. Not when she was potentially going to be a mother, meaning she was going to have to stop a lot of things that could be harmful to her baby.

_Fuck_ , Ophelia thought, _my baby_.

The situation wasn’t ideal, Ophelia could easily say that. She was seventeen, in her seventh year at school, and there was a fucking Wizarding war that her parents refuse to acknowledge in front of her and her brother. Dumbledore was as useless as a seeker not being able to see the Snitch during a Quidditch game, filling the heads of his students with meaningless words and empty promises. Ophelia could only wonder why her brother and his friends admired him, he was a bumbling old fool.

Ophelia thought of ways she could hide her… situation. She was fairly good at disillusionment charms but she feared that if she did it too often, the baby would come out deformed or worse. She could convince the house-elf, Hildy, to mend her Hogwarts robes a little larger in order for her to conceal her bump. However, she couldn’t fathom how she would explain the sudden weight gain to her friends or her brother. Despite not wanting it to, her mind kept drifting to her brother.

James was a good lad, a little bit of a dunderhead, but he had a good heart. And despite being 30 seconds older than her, he was as protective over her like a dragon is protective over her eggs. One step too close and you’ll get burned. Although you won’t get burned with fire, you’d be on the receiving end of his index of jinxes and hexes he had up his sleeve. Despite being a raging troublemaker, he was one of the smartest people Ophelia has ever known. And James was not stupid enough to believe that she’s been eating so many cauldron cakes, she was about as large as Peter Pettigrew when he was left alone in the kitchens. No, James Fleamont Potter may be a dunderhead, a prodigy at Charms, and had a penchant for causing trouble wherever he went, but he was not stupid.

Her mind drifted off to her parents. Good Merlin, her parents. They tried so long just to have her and James, and here she was, one-upping them by her luck with fertility. She hoped her mother would understand and her father… she just hoped he wouldn’t scream at her too much for her stupidity. They wouldn’t dare disown her for this. They won’t even think of it as an option.

_Or will they?_

And if her parents knew, so would Hogwarts. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Slughorn, the whole lot of them will know. She’d be expelled; which means, she won’t get to take her NEWTs which then leads to her not getting accepted into the Auror program, which then leads to her being unemployed and living with her parents with a bastard child and once her parents die, she’d be living in Potter Manor alone to raise her child she couldn’t even tell her boyfriend about!

Her boyfriend… Anthony… _Fuck_.

Ophelia was certain that if she told Anthony, he would drop her and get as far away from her as possible. After what she did when she was fifteen and then coming back out of the blue, she was sure that it would only take one decision, one mistake, to finally knock some sense into Anthony and finally figure out that she wasn’t good for him.

"Hey Opie,” Heather’s voice sounded so near but so far away. “I know you’re probably shouting at yourself for this but it’s gonna be okay. I know it doesn’t seem like it but it is. Claud and I are here for you, and you’re welcome to stay with either of us if your parents do the stupid thing and kick you out. If that test comes out negative, then this is just another story that we’ll laugh about in the future. And if it’s positive… then we’re here for you.”

“You are so incredibly brave, Phee.” Claudia added. “You are going to be an amazing mother and if your family doesn’t see that, then fuck them. Me, you, Heather, and that baby are going to be a family until the day we all die. Now either suck it up, face the truth and gravity of the situation, or calm yourself down, realize that there’s nothing more that you could do, and accept it. I know that sounds harsh but it’s true. Either way, we will be here for you. So why should you be so scared?”

Exactly. Why should she be scared? It’s just a test, a test that will not only determine her future but her entire life for the next seventeen years. But aside from that, this was just a test. A test of her bravery, courage, and self-preservation. She counts the time down in her head; there are thirty seconds left. The white stick on the sink mocks her, it reminds her of the decisions she made that lead her to this very moment. It reminds her of Anthony, it reminds her of her childhood innocence that was lost. It reminds her of the life she has ahead of her.

The clock in her head rings. Her time was up. She takes a deep breath and whispers to herself. “If it comes out negative, then it’s just a story for the future. If it’s positive… then Hildy better get started with the sewing.”

Ophelia walks slowly toward the sink, picks up the test, and reads the results.

Her eyes widened.

“Shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of the first Harry Potter fanfiction that I did that was preciously entitled "Florence". Unfortunately, it was deemed too problematic so I went back to the original storyline and TA-DA! "Beautiful Boy" was born. I do not condone any problematic behavior and I also do not own Harry Potter, J.K. R*wling does. No matter how much we don't want to.


End file.
